


A Thing with You

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 2 [28]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: “A MulderAndScully kind of thing.”





	A Thing with You

She had no idea what jolted her awake but her body jerked, blood rushing and eyes opening, realizing she was now horizontal on a soft sofa, pillow beneath her head, blanket over her back.

And Mulder staring at her from the floor.

He was lying in the space between coffee table and couch, wedged but relaxed, another pillow halved under his chin, book open in front of him, camping lantern giving just enough light to make out the tiny print, “thunder wake you up?”

Not about to move, warm and cozy in her napping spot, she blinked a few times, doing her best to bring him into focus and failing miserably, “not sure. Probably. I have no idea.”

Twisting his head a little further, he gave her a smile, “why don’t you go back to sleep?”

She opted to fight the sandman a little longer, “why are you on the floor? You have a bed 20 steps from here.”

“20 steps are too far from you sometimes.”

The things he declared in the darkest of unknown hours made her heart quake at times and this was a prime example. The edge of her mouth twitched upwards, her gaze dropping to his mouth for a moment before jumping to his eyes, “you could have woken me up and made me go to bed.”

“Naw. Afraid you might bite me or something if I disturbed you.” His grin grew a little, “although biting while awake could be fun.”

She nearly moved to swat his back but relaxed muscles nixed that idea, “what are you reading?”

Shifting some, he got his elbows in a position so he could rise enough to flip the book over, show her the cover, “Silence of the Lambs.”

With a quick judgement of the dogeared pages and the crumbling cover, “not your first time?”

“No … no no no no no … I have read this thing over and over again. It’s my go-to for easy reading.”

“Our line of work and that’s your easy reading?”

“There’s just something about how he turns a phrase.” Flipping to the last page, “listen to this … ‘But the face on the pillow, rosy in the firelight, is certainly that of Clarice Starling, and she sleeps deeply, sweetly, in the silence of the lambs.’” Looking up at her, “he writes violence and terror and fear on a molecular level then wraps it up tight in the quietest of moments, with a peacefulness that makes you think that the horror is over and the world sleeps on.” With a smile, “you do that for me. You take my nightmare and in the most unimposing, most gentle way possible, you wrap me up and let me sleep.” Scooting closer, he kissed the tip of her nose, “I’m keeping you.”

Tilting her head, she slipped a hand around his neck, pulling his mouth up to meet hers, kissing him with an all-out possession that made him breathe deep when she finally let go, “I’m keeping you, too.”

As he turned to his back, settling on the pillow, one hand behind his head, staring up at her peeking over the couch cushion, “I think we should take tomorrow off.”

Settling her now free hand on his chest, she bunched his loose t-shirt material with her fingers, “I’m in complete agreement. Can we make it a ‘no real pants’ day?”

“Of course.”

Things went quiet again, rain smacking the window in a white-noise pattern that made her eyes heavier than lead. Fighting to keep them open, she walked her fingers up to his mouth, feeling her way over his scratchy chin, “thunderstorms all day tomorrow.”

Kissing those fingers one by one, he lingered on the last, “we’ll keep the blinds closed and the door locked and the phones off.”

“How will we order Wong’s Tacos and Happy Sushi?”

“Okay, we’ll turn the phone on for that but nothing else.”

Slowly, slowly, slowly she slithered off the edge of the cushions, dropping neatly into the crevice between Mulder and couch, head settling on shoulder, “sounds perfect.”

&&&&&&&

She persuaded him to bed around 4am, after a quick trip to the bathroom with a detour to the bedroom to pull down the sheets. Returning to her lightly snoring partner, “Mulder? Come on. Let’s go to bed. A real bed. One that’s not a twin and not within earshot of Mom.” Stroking a finger down his arm, playing momentarily with the protruding bone of his wrist, “your feet won’t hang off the end.”

Key words penetrated, Mulder wiggling his way to semi-vertical, “I’m not opening my eyes.”

“Would never have expected it.”

Up beside her and swaying like a drunk, “bed only. No antics.”

“Bed only. No antics.”

Once there, naked, satiated by the antics that weren’t supposed to happen, she couldn’t fall back asleep, her mind noiseless for the moment, content to listen to him breathe, small puffs of warm air wafting over her bare neck, reminding her that he was alive, well and here with her.

It didn’t take long.

It never took long.

The demons came knocking …

In the form of blood in the back of her throat.

The demons came knocking …

Making her crawl from their nest, steal to the bathroom, avoid the fear she saw in her eyes, head down, reflection nothing more than bent neck and parted hair.

The demons came knocking …

For the fourth time.

&&&&&&&&&&

“Hey, Mulder?”

Calling from the kitchen, mid-sushi second helping retrieval, “yeah?”

“Are you seriously planning on making me watch not one, not two but three sequels to ‘Tremors’?

He managed to balance two plates and a jug of ice tea, sitting down beside her, wiggling back into the throw blankets comfortably, “yes, yes I am.”

Tugging the afghan over her bare legs after Mulder’s unceremonious dislodging, “do I have permission to fall asleep after the first one?”

“Whatever. Great cinematic spectacles are completely lost on you, you know that?”

“I am wearing a tank top and underwear on your couch at 11:15am, eating sushi you had to bribe the owner to make for us given he’s not even open yet and then had to over-tip him the gross national product of a small country to get him to deliver. We are our own great cinematic spectacle but believe me when I say,” giving him a bashfully beautiful gaze over her Tyson, “I could easily get lost on you.”

Chopsticks full of slipping Pita roll, he stopped mid-move, replaced his food, silently took Scully’s from her lap, then, once the food was at a minimum safe distance, he attacked her, kamikaze style, diving onto her, covering her, devouring neck to navel, tank top launched with unwholesome glee. He did, however, stop after a minute, looking up from his perch between her legs, underwear still in place, lips loosely nibbling one of her numerous scars, “I can hear your belly still growling.”

Suddenly not given a flying rip about food, she blinked back a hopefully hidden tear, then tugged him forward by the ears until his mouth was over hers, an inch from contact, “I don’t need food right now.”

Noticing the fast, telltale eye flutter, he remained hovering, “you okay?”

Shit.

“Yes, I just think you need to shut up for a minute and kiss me.”

He pushed himself away from her, hands sinking into the cushions, bare knees sticking to the leather, “what happened?”

“Mulder, come on.”

“No … what happened?”

Fuck, there goes the idea of a nice, relaxing day. Scrambling up as best she could, she pulled a blanket up around her shoulders, suddenly embarrassed by light of day and intensity of stare, “can we just eat, please?”

Face serious as a heart attack with probing eyes to match, “no, we can’t.”

Irritation replaced embarrassment, “my nose started bleeding again last night after you fell asleep. That’s it, all right? It’s my business and I wish you’d stop pushing me about things that aren’t your concern.”

Standing, he found his pants, shoved his feet in shoes and left, door slamming shut behind him, echoing through the silence of Scully realizing she was a complete and total no-holds barred fucking bitch. Scrambling up, she didn’t waste seconds finding her clothes, instead pulling blanket tight as she ran for the door. Pulling it open, she ran headlong into Mulder, who was standing, facing her, immovable object filling all available space.

Crushing nose, mouth, chin into his chest, she bounced backwards a step, quiet ‘oof’ the only sound between them. Noting he didn’t continue his storming off but didn’t re-enter the apartment either, she closed the gap once again, this time careful of spacing until she could rest her forehead against him, her whispered ‘I’m sorry’ reaching necessary auditory senses.

Unmoving save his head, which he lowered enough to rest against hers, tip of nose against slope of scalp, lips in hair, “you are my pain in the ass.”

Wet chuckle vibrated her shoulders, “it didn’t scare me too much last night but then you were there and I was there and we were normal and happy and …” the sentence lost steam, the words too close to home, gears switching, “I love you more than everything in the world, Mulder and sometimes it’s big and perfect and in that second, something that isn’t bad at all becomes the biggest terror in the world. You are my concern and I am yours and I need to tell you my things, all my things, every time.”

Arms sliding around her shoulders, “all your things. Every time.”

“I’m sorry.”

They stood, half-naked in his apartment door for another minute before they both heard the elevator ding and Mulder smoothly backed them up, shutting the door behind him, talking once again, this time a small smile on his voice, “the neighbors probably don’t need to witness our … things … when they walk by.”

“We have things?”

“Some of my favorite things.”

Pulling her head back, she stayed well within the circle of his arms, “why didn’t you leave the doorway? You should have been at the elevator by the time I got there.”

“I couldn’t.” Steel determination met her gaze, “I don’t leave anymore. I won’t leave anymore. I can’t leave anymore. We have a thing and it’s a forever thing and regardless of how crazy you make me, I’m not going anywhere. I just needed the space for a second and the door was as far as I planned on going or plan on going … ever again.”

She let the blanket drop, working his shirt over his head with her warm hands, “sushi can sit awhile, right?”

“Probably an hour or so.”

Pushing his pants down next, “that’s good ‘cause I kinda want to do a thing with you.”

“What kind of thing?”

“A MulderAndScully kind of thing.”

“Will it include stuff?”

Tilting her head, grin moving her lips upward, glint in her eye, argument long forgotten, “always you with the stuff.”

“I like stuff.”

As she took his hand to lead him towards the bedroom, “then stuff there will be.”

“I love our thing.”

“Me, too, Mulder, me, too.”

Fourth time truth could wait.


End file.
